


Wasted!!! on Ice

by Shlav squat (Strudelmugel)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, M/M, Phichit Chulanont is a Little Shit, seung gil is very hard to write, there's some side viktuuri and a sentence of leoji, viktuuri wedding, who makes a tit of himself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-15 02:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9215402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strudelmugel/pseuds/Shlav%20squat
Summary: For some reason, Seung Gil is stuck at a party he didn't really want to go too, forced to make sure a completely hammered Phichit doesn't get himself arrested or lost or something. Wild!!! Why did he agree to this again?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look I’m making a start on my YOI oneshots. Given that I’m now writing a multichapter YOI fic, I won’t be doing one hundred, but there are quite a few little oneshot ideas I’m still love to try writing for fun, when I’m too uninspired to write anything I’m supposed to. Well, I’m pretty inspired but this just seemed like a fun idea so I thought I’d give it a shot.
> 
> This one's just some silly banter for a pairing that really needs more love... and fic... and art... and smut. I mean wut. There's no smut in this though. Just banter and adult humour.

 

And just why on earth had Lee Seung Gil agreed to go to this again? He wasn’t in any way one for social interaction, let alone the most shameless, gaudy, no other word besides ‘Nikiforov’ could really capture just how ridiculous the whole affair was, wedding; ‘the wedding of the century’ seemed to be the theme here, no expenses spared and all taste out the window. Seung Gil was honestly surprised with how lenient Katsuki had appeared to be with his now-husband’s plans, because there was no way that drab, serious little man could have had anything to with that figure skating couple ice sculpture; or the cake that had been measured and found out to actually be taller than Guang Hong; or the ice rink in the middle of the hall Seung Gil found himself staring longingly at. Then again, after that weirdo’s hugging spree- the path of which he’d not been quick enough to avoid- Seung Gil supposed anything was possible with him. He wasn’t sure he cared to find out more. Katsuki was a mystery wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a challenge, and the more Seung Gil heard, the more he feared.

He’d love to have a go on the ice though, maybe get a few jumps in, had the room not been full of his rivals and the rink itself full of small children. JJ had already gotten in trouble for sending a few sprogs flying trying to show off to Isabella. At least he’d found that somewhat amusing. Given how freely the spirits were flowing, it wasn’t uncommon for figure skaters to fall short of their medal-winning reputations, then fall on their backsides. Seung Gil knew he had an advantage here, given how sober he was, but the idea of taking a tumble still embarrassed him. He’d let the others make idiots of themselves.

The only reason Seung Gil really had for being here was some sort of hope that he could find out a few weaknesses his rivals had- maybe to plan what to emphasize in his upcoming programmes- but he’d soon lost interest despite being in the perfect position to eavesdrop. No one was actually talking about skating here anyway, and so Seung Gil sulked for a bit in his corner before beginning to zone out. He’d really sacrificed time with his puppy for this? There had been some good food served at dinner, but right now he could very well go home and sleep. And maybe facecam his little pooch goodnight, even though it was now morning in Korea.

“Hey,” a slightly slurred voice sounded in his ear as a hand softly squeezed his shoulder, “what’re you doing standing alone here? Come dance with me.” Phichit’s words took longer than usual to come out, given that he had to stop and let out a rather undignified belch. It was uncomfortably hot against the left side of his face, and stank of Moët and unidentified cooked vegetables he didn’t care to linger on.

Seung Gil respected Phichit as a skater, slightly less as a human being, and as such it was a great shock to see him behave in such an undignified manner. Whilst he liked Phichit’s footwork, and greatly admired his ability to entertain a crowd- something he had no interest in- there was no way he wanted to get to know the man on a personal level and have his image of Chulanont ruined. Plus, the man had been at the open bar for half the evening already, the other half spent picking himself up off the ice rink. Seung Gil knew, because for some reason he’d been watching. Even drunk, Phichit could get a crowd’s attention.

“I don’t talk with people who come last in Grand Prix finals;” well, pretty much the entire skating world thought he was a cunt anyways, so what did it matter if Phichit didn’t bother with him either? Besides, Seung Gil was used to simply admiring him from afar, and he didn’t like a break in the patterns of his life. It was better he just offend Phichit now and get it over with.

For the briefest of moments, Phichit seemed to reel back from his comment, and Seung Gil was a little disappointed that his reputation hadn’t preceded him, especially to the ears of the star of Thailand. He seemed to recover just as quickly though. “Forgive me, but you have to understand the competition- when it comes down to the last six- is very fierce. You would know, right?” His smile widened. “Oh wait. You don’t.”

Seung Gil didn’t even bother dignifying that with a response, instead moving to look for some other corner he could hide in until he’d finished his drink- the one he’d grabbed from a tray as he walked. He wasn’t that much of a heavy drinker, but maybe Phichit’s response hurt a little. And maybe he was now trying his utmost not to cry here. 

He’d brought it on himself, really. Now Phichit would never bother speaking to him again, and though it would be easier that way, Seung Gil was still really mad at himself. Why did he have to push everyone away? He preferred his own company, and was no longer quite sure how to talk to people, but it would’ve been nice to think Phichit would want to be his friend, and admire him from a distance as he skated, like Seung Gil had done.

“Hey, come on, I think we’re- um- we’re getting off on the wrong foot.” Oh, of course Phichit would follow him. Seung Gil downed the last of his drink, not entirely sure what to say now. People didn’t tend to give him a second chance. “I think you’re a good skater and just wanted to have a chat.”

“Phichit!” Was this his saviour? His ticket back to a life of solitude? No, it was a wasted Yuuri Katsuki with his freshly pressed trousers now wrapped around his neck like a vaguely posh cardigan.

“Yuyu!” Phichit exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air with a stupid grin on his face. “Finally, I can tell you congratulations on your wedding! And this time I’ve got the right day!” Seung Gil didn’t want to know the context behind that. Was Phichit as much of a mess as this all the time?

“Chichi,” Yuuri replied with as much affection, “you were my best man. You congratulated me the moment I woke up. And all through getting me dressed. And outside the church, and yeah I could go on.” Seung Gil remembered Phichit also mentioned it in his speech; since it was Phichit he’d at least tried to half-listen. What he found out about Yuuri from it had just been plain terrifying though.

“Did I?” Phichit blinked slowly as he took in that new information. “Well I’ll say it again.”

“Ah, Seung Gil!” Seung Gil wasted only a fraction of a second in admiring how easily Yuuri could ignore Phichit when he himself had failed before wondering just what the hell Katsuki was doing talking to him. He thought the guy was intimidated by him, but he supposed Katsuki was the one to make it to the finals, not him. And not to mention he’d just kissed Yakov, thanking him for producing such a wonderful young man and quite forgetting Viktor was not his real son. Though to be fair, many sober people forgot too. Dude was fearless.

Be barely bothered to grunt in reply.

“I know this is a huge favour to ask,” Yuuri began, a little on the nervous side. Oh, joy.

“Well don’t ask it then,” he replied bluntly.

“But, um,” Yuuri blanched, but seemed determined to continue on his futile quest. Great. “Could you maybe walk Phichit back to his hotel room? I’m a little worried he’s had a bit too much to drink.”

Phichit was now trying to fight the ice sculpture. ‘A little too much to drink’ seemed to be an understatement here.

“I have absolutely no interest in babysitting your best man.” He was not doing it. Period. Please, he wanted to keep some sort of respect for Phichit Chulanont.

“Please,” begged Yuuri, “I already have my husband and his best man to look after without worrying about my best friend too.” The smile he gave was annoyingly sweet. “If you’re looking for a chance to leave, this is your best one.”

Funny enough, he had been calculating the quickest exit out of this shit party and painful conversation that would minimize the chance of having to talk to anyone else. “Fine. I had no interest being here anyway. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. I’ll make it up to you.” Oh fuck. Another hug. Once again, Seung Gil thought he would throw up, though at least last time Katsuki had had his trousers on. Now he could practically feel Viktor’s upcoming wedding night present brushing against his thigh. Seung Gil considered himself gayer than Katsuki and Nikiforov put together and even he thought it was disgusting.

“Honestly, forget it.” To be fair, he probably would.

“Thank you though.” That wasn’t forgetting it, Katsuki. “Oy, Phichit! Get over here!” To both their surprise, Phichit happily obliged.

“Wassup?” He smiled at them both, swaying slightly.

“Seung Gil here will be taking you home,” Yuuri explained helpfully.

The turn his smile took did little to make Seung Gil feel better about the situation. “Oh will he now?” He took Seung Gil’s hand, thumb rubbing the back teasingly. “Escorting a young man to his room, huh?”

“Don’t get excited; I just want to get out of here.”

“Eager, aren’t we?” Phichit leaned forward to brush a thumb over Seung Gil’s bottom lip, and he in turn sent a glare in Yuuri’s direction.

“You owe me big time,” he hissed. Yuuri just raised his eyebrows and hands, making a hasty retreat.

The only time Seung Gil stopped in his steamrolling path towards the exit was to grab another glass of champagne, which meant his ears were assaulted with Viktor’s bellow of: “me and Chris have the pole prepared and a bucket of grease, if everyone wants to make their way to the dance floor!”

If he’d had any doubts about escorting drunk Phichit home, they were wiped away entirely by what he considered a parachute phrase in any given situation, and he took a third glass, downing it in one just to make sure he was ready to deal with what could be the most trying night of his life. Still, the unfortunate Yuuri being dragged- not as unwilling as he was pretending to be- towards said pole and grease at least distracted anyone who might want to say goodbye to him or convince him to stay a while, like the Crispy-French-fries siblings or whatever they were called.

The outside air hit him like a punch to the face, but Phichit hadn’t seemed to notice. He let go of Seung Gil’s hand, wandering off already and he wondered if anyone would believe him if he said they got separated and he tried his best to look for Phichit, and no he had no idea how the guy ended up in jail he’d ran away.

No, he couldn’t leave Phichit alone on a night like this. For one, it was freezing, and his styled white suit was incredibly thin. He might fall over and just freeze to death, and- believe it or not- Seung Gil did have a conscience.

“Hey,” Phichit called, stumbling over to a bin, “look, look!” He wasn’t honestly about to climb in, was he? Oh, yes he was. Great. “I’m trashed! Geddit? Trashed!” He waved his arms, and Seung Gil wondered if he could get away with taking it all back and just leaving him there to be a tool. This just couldn’t be real. This was some fever dream and any minute now he’d wake up at home having done the smart thing and not gone to the wedding in the first place. Maybe it was a prophecy telling him not to go. 

“Get out of there before a rat bites you and you die or something,” he snapped. There was no way in hell he was touching that bin in order to fish that idiot out. No way.

“Oooh, rats,” Phichit began rifling through the rubbish, “I’d love to take one home. He can be my new friend. Like you. Oooh, what if I named him Seung Gil too?”

“I would be a little offended. Please don’t name vermin after me.”

“It’s alright,” Phichit waved a hand airily, “they’re so cute, like you.”

“Shut the fuck up and get out of there.” Good thing it was pitch black because he was probably blushing like a motherfucker now. Wow Phichit was such a sap.

“Okay, okay,” he smiled as he- with some difficulty- crawled out of the bin onto the freezing, icy pavement. Unsurprisingly, he struggled to pull himself to his feet. Dude had gold medals from figure skating, but two bottles of champagne later and he’d forgotten how to walk. 

“I can’t believe we partied all night,” he was gushing once Seung Gil had pulled him up, clutching his arm like they were a couple. “I can’t believe I got to party all night with you.”

“We were like the first to leave,” he corrected.

“Oh? Oh wait, we weren’t,” Phichit seemed to be thinking- really- hard, “the Nishigoris had to take their ugly kids home.”

Seung Gil came to a stop like he’d suddenly been hit by a train. Phichit… sweet, kind Phichit just said… And now he knew it was a bad dream. “I’m sorry?”

When he came to a stop, so did Phichit, although unfortunately with not as much control of his feet, and very nearly went tumbling down again. “What?”

“I wouldn’t have expected… you never struck me as a mean person,” he explained.

“Mean?” Granted, it took a while for Phichit’s brain to register what had happened all of a second ago, but soon enough his eyes widened and he looked absolutely horrified at what had come out of his mouth. And so he should be.

“No, oh no,” he all but squealed, “I’m sorry! I get horrible and bitchy when I’m drunk.” A little flirty too, but Seung Gil sensed the man was already quite distressed. “It’s a disease, really. I don’t usually drink because of it, but-”

“Hey I’m not complaining, just didn’t expect to hear it from you.” He paused for a moment, letting his soul smile even if his body didn’t. “So, got anything else you’d like to just… get off your chest.”

“Oh no, I shouldn’t.”

“Come on. I think it would be fun.”

Phichit glanced around before drawing closer, “alright, but you have to promise not to tell anyone what I said.”

“I fail to see how I’d have the opportunity. But fine, I promise.”

“Don’t you think,” Phichit did look guilty as he began talking, but not entirely, to Seung Gil’s amazement, “that Otabek and JJ are starting to look like bad tribute acts of each other?”

“I suppose,” Seung Gil suppressed a laugh.

“And don’t get me started on Yurio’s shit suit,” the more Phichit talked, the more confident he seemed to be growing, “red leopard print? Really? What is actually wrong with him? Does he not have parents to tell him that’s a bad idea?”

Seung Gil knew absolutely nothing about fashion, and hadn’t had a problem with Yurio’s clothing choices, so elected to stay silent on the matter. The only reason he wasn’t dressed equally tragically was because his coach made sure to pick out his outfit. A snazzy little sequined affair, nothing too gaudy.

“Hey, hey,” Phichit elbowed his side, eyes giving off a particularly cheeky gleam, “wanna hear something hilarious?”

“Mmm.”

“I could see Viktor’s bald spot during the entire ceremony.” A giggle turned into full blown laughter, “if he thought the crown would cover it up then he will be entirely disappointed.”

“That poor, ancient bastard,” Seung Gil agreed. “And poor Katsuki for marrying him. I really doubt anything there was his idea.”

“You mean besides the ice sculpture?” Phichit raised an eyebrow, “you know, the one of them, to let everyone know Viktor is his now. Possessive much? Ah but I’m happy for them. Seriously, Yuyu never shut up about the guy.”

“So you said in your speech,” commented Seung Gil, “about his posters and body pillow and self-insert fanfiction. It was horrifying. I couldn’t stop listening.” Why hadn’t he started drinking then?

“Glad to know, ehe.”

The little smile on Phichit’s face unnerved him with it’s sweetness, so he scrambled for a new topic to talk about. Finding none, he decided to take the conversation back a few steps. “So what else do you want to say about the grooms and guests?”

“Well there was one charming young man I never got to see dance, even though I know he can do so, very well.” Subtle, Phichit. 

“I don’t dance except on the ice.” He was killing this conversation before it had the chance to live.

“There was a rink,” Phichit reminded him, pouting slightly, “I’d have loved to see you perform that sexy mambo of yours.”

“Seriously?”

“Ah come on,” quick fingers reached up to pinch his cheek, “you looked so handsome, like one of those birds of paradise doing a mating dance.”

“I’m going to throw up,” groaned Seung Gil.

“Me too,” Phichit agreed sadly, “oh, at least we’re here now.”

“In the same hotel?” Oh, joy. At least he’d not have to walk home alone though. 

Then again, it made sense all the guests would end up in the same hotel, provided helpfully by the happy couple on the back of their wedding invitations along with a little map and some local taxi numbers. Oh, right. He could’ve called them a cab.

“So,” Phichit began slyly as they slipped into the lobby, “are you escorting me all the way to my room?”

“Only because you’re too trashed to walk,” he replied. He didn’t want Phichit spending the whole night crawling down corridor after corridor wailing that he was lost and waking everyone- including Seung Gil- up at ungodly hours. He needed his rest so he could get the hell out of Russia tomorrow and not have to see these people until next season.

“Aren’t you considerate,” cooed Phichit, “and to think everyone just says you’re a dick.”

Seung Gil could hardly argue with that.

That plan had been to just leave Phichit at his door and go, having fulfilled every responsibility he’d been given to the highest degree, but that didn’t quite happen when he realised Phichit was struggling with his room key. And then found that the first thing he did upon entering his room was collapse on the floor with a whine.

Seung Gil groaned as he shut the room door behind him, pulling Pichit up and onto the bed.

“Woah,” mumbled Phichit, “this is a bit forward.”

“I’m just making sure you’re comfy.” Seung Gil worked to remove Phichit’s shoes and jacket, quickly and efficiently, and in the least sexual manner possible. He wasn’t drunk enough for that, and Phichit was clearly too drunk.

“Tucking me in?” With a hopeful smile, Phichit pulled the bedsheet out from under him.

Oh for fuck’s- “Sure.”

He helped Phichit removed his trousers and shirt, not bothering to go through his luggage for pyjamas, and wrapped the blanket around him, all the while Phichit smiled and gurgled like a baby.

“Can you get my hammy?” A tired, flailing arm waved in the general direction of a cuddly toy hamster, propped up on the sofa and bigger than his skull. Seung Gil guessed it would be difficult to wash sick off the little fella, but he didn’t really care to explain that to Phichit, so simply brought him his hamster, and placed it on the pillow next to him.

“Can you read me a bedtime story?”

“No.” No, Seung Gil didn’t care about those pleading, sparkling eyes he just wanted to leave.

“Please?” tried Phichit, “even just a quick one?”

“Fine,” he settled down on the bed at Phichit’s waist, stroking his hair back to something that might resemble its original style and not the bird’s nest it had become. It seemed to settle him down though. “Once upon a time, death was inevitable and life is pointless. We all die alone anyway, and can’t do anything to prevent that. The end.”

He’d meant it as a joke, which was why for the life of him he couldn’t understand why Phichit started crying. But now his eyes were watery and tears welling up, about to spill down his face at any given second.

“I’m going to die alone?” he whimpered.

“Well, um,” just say yes and get out of there, “of course not. You’ll have a family that will be with you at the end, when you’re old.”

“But when I’m old my parents will be dead!” Phichit looked so genuinely worried at that Seung Gil didn’t know what to say.

“I mean your other half and kids.” Or... fucking... hamsters. He didn't know.

“But what if I never get that?” Phichit reached up to grab at Seung Gil’s shirt, “I haven’t been on a date in two years. Yesterday, I was so lonely I made out with a mirror.”

Too much information. “Well you’re nice,” since when did he put so much effort into comforting people. What was he getting from this? “I’m sure someone will come along eventually.”

“No! I’ll never find anyone and I’ll just live alone with my hamsters and when I die no one will care and no one will find me because my hamsters will have to eat my dead body to survive.” Cheery. Seung Gil, for one, didn’t really see what was so bad about living alone with pets. 

“Don’t worry,” he assured him, “hamsters don’t live that long. They’ll die long before you.”

That didn’t seem to help in any way. “But- my poor-” And he was still crying.

“Look,” Seung Gil really wanted to sleep now, and just couldn’t be bothered trying to comfort emotional drunks, “you’re just upset that your human mess of a best friend’s getting married and you’re not there yet. Give it time, okay?”

“But I’m lonely,” Phichit sniffed.

“We all are.” He could get lonely sometimes, never lonely enough to actually try and make friends with anyone, but still fairly lonely. 

“Maybe we can do something about that,” the moment Phichit’s hand snaked up into his hair, Seung Gil pulled it away.

“If you go to sleep now I might be tempted to go out with you,” he suggested, to both their amazements, “if being lonely worries you so much.” He for one wouldn’t complain. Phichit was attractive, and he always found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the man. And maybe getting to know the sober side of him would be more rewarding than being stuck with his drunk side.

“Yes!” Even the desperate neediness wasn’t as unattractive as it should be. “I’ll go to sleep right away!” And with that, Phichit dropped back onto the pillow, eyes squeezed shut with a teeny, tiny smile on his determined face.

Seung Gil elected to ignore when Phichit opened one eye a fraction as he pulled water and a snack from the mini fridge to leave on his bedside table. He was quiet and pretending to be asleep which was an improvement on awake and crying anyday.

“Night, you fucking freak,” he muttered affectionately as he slipped out of the room.

 

...

 

It seemed he was one of the few people in the building not nursing the most horrendous of hangovers. From what he could tell by the social media feeds of the few people up before midday, Leo and Guang Hong had shared a bed, were shirtless and- no he didn’t want to read into that more-; the Nishigoris had lost a kid; Emil had ‘adopted’ a small girl he’d found; Otabek was in Minsk; and Yuri P was freaking the fuck out over his best friend ending up in another country, especially after going to so much trouble to wrestle Viktor's discarded garter from every bachelor and bachelorette within catching distance. Also, from what he could tell from Katsuki’s twitter, Nikiforov was still drunk from all the alcohol he’d consumed last night.

And yet, Sara what-was-her-damn-name still felt it was him she needed to check up on. Maybe he should point her in Phichit’s direction; the guy would be a mess right now.

“I don’t know why you’re here,” he grumbled, “I’m fine.”

Sara just handed him oranges and dark chocolate like he was ill or something, though he didn’t oppose the snack. She also poured them both glasses of water before joining him at the end of his bed. “You disappeared last night and I got a bit worried.”

“I went home. Is that honestly surprising?” Come on, who were they talking about here?

“Oh, right,” Sara’s face fell as she sipped her water.

Seung Gil might have asked her about her night, if he cared. Maybe later if conversation was getting awkward and she still wasn’t leaving. Like now, in actual fact.

Luckily, he was saved from having to put effort into ignoring Sara’s talking by his phone buzzing on the table next to him. Oh, Phichit was up. Barely. The picture attached to his text told the tale of a very broken man, one with dishevelled hair and sick in the corners of his mouth and bloodshot eyes, one who was wondering how the hell he ended up nearly naked, it seemed. He quickly texted back to explain that no, Phichit didn’t end up sleeping with someone who then did a runner. He wondered just how little the guy could actually remember.

“Hey, I was talking,” Sara gave a pout, trying to snatch his phone away, “don’t be so rude.”

“Phichit is distressed,” he explained. Did he remember their deal? He wasn’t sure whether he was hoping for a yes or no here.

“What’s this? Someone you care about?” Why did Sara look so smug? “And what are you hoping to get from being friends with him? There has to be some benefit, huh?”

He prayed he wasn’t blushing. Damn her.

Another text from Phichit saved him from answering.

‘Just testing ya ;D gotta make sure ur an honest man xxx wanna pick me up tomorrow?’

Oh, so he did remember. Was this a good thing? And how the hell did he ever get a date in this lifetime? Holy damn, Phichit was desperate if he was currently not pretending he didn’t remember and actually wanted to go out with him.

“Is he dying?” asked Sara.

“Of thirst,” he replied. “In other news, I have a date.”

“Really?” She didn’t seem too upset at the news, surprisingly. In fact, she looked rather happy for him. “Oh that’s so lovely to hear! You and Phichit, huh? Who woulda thought?”

“Meaning?”

“Didn’t think you were into the bubbly type,” she explained.

Well it wasn’t Sara’s business anyway, so he decided not to answer.

“I can’t wait to tell Micky and Em- oh,” her face fell, “no wait, it’s your secret. I wouldn’t out you like that.”

“Thanks, but Phichit has already tweeted I’m off the market,” he held up his phone in mild disgust, “does he not know my fans are on par with Yuri P’s in being rabid? They will beat him to death with a redbubble body pillow and stuff his body into a goddamn treehouse. So yeah, tell who you want.” 

“Woah really?”

“Yeah, if it’ll get you to stop talking about it,” he mumbled into his pillow. What was the big deal, really? Well, it was a big deal for him and his mind was a screaming mess right now, but did everyone else have to care?

“So when is it? And what are you going to wear?”

Well that wasn’t stopping talking about it, now was it? “Tomorrow, you’re not invited, and what does it matter?”

“What do you mean ‘what does it matter’?” gasped Sara, “you’re only going out with one of the cutest, trendiest figure skaters in the world, and he’ll be photographing everything. And I mean everything.”

Seung Gil narrowed his eyes, knowing in his heart she was right about that. Well then what the hell did someone wear on a date?

Seeing his distress, Sara reached out an arm to stroke his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll show up early and make sure you look pretty for him.”

Seung Gil buried his face further into the pillow. “Why are you being so nice to me?” He’d been nothing short of a dick to Sara since he’d met her. What the hell was she getting from being so persistent?

“You always seemed a little lonely,” she simply replied.

“How astute...”

 

**Author's Note:**

> If it turns out Yurio doesn't actually have parents I'm gonna look like such a dick.


End file.
